


Sudden Discoveries

by we_are_the_story



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, BDSM, Begging, Hand Jobs, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Smut, dominant keith, submissive lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 12:59:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15752157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_are_the_story/pseuds/we_are_the_story
Summary: “Hey, babe?” Lance whispered into the lingering stillness encasing Keith’s small bedroom in a timeless bubble where they could pretend the outside world didn’t exist.Keith’s reply was guttural, “What?”Lance allowed himself to be pulled further into Keith’s firm chest, sighing in contentment when he felt lips at the top of his neck. He let the peace simmer for a moment.He took a deep breath. “Are you into BDSM?”





	Sudden Discoveries

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> Back at it again with the smut.  
> Tell me how you like it!

It was nearing midnight.

The glow from the streetlights outside slipped through the curtains and sent the world into a hazy mess, like the jagged edge of bitumen atop dry dirt, like static. It was just enough for Lance to make out the edges of the posters tacked to Keith’s pale grey wall. Even hazy and undefined, Lance thought as he blinked across the room to the space above Keith’s cluttered desk, the almost void-like darkness within the large glossy rectangle seemed like something Keith would buy just because he could. He’d done it once; bought a terribly made but otherwise wicked looking ring that looked almost like the epicentre of a black hole. He’d found it at a second-hand store.

Lance shifted his attention to their clasped hands against his chest, smiling faintly as Keith absently stroked the back of Lance’s palm with his thumb. Keith’s arm supported his neck and hung over the edge of the too-small bed.

They’d pulled the heavy duvet over themselves hours ago, finally done with their own respective course work. The evidence lay scattered on the lightwood flooring, lined paper filled with both neat and careless scribbles, pencils and pens discarded mindlessly, binders splayed open to pages covered in notes and diagrams. Lance’s laptop was closed and resolutely off, while Keith’s was still running as told by the flashing light beside the charging cord and the near-silent hum filling the room.

It had been a day of studying, but now that they were able to relax without the unending pressure of assignments—they’d both finished the last exam the day before—they both found themselves wide awake and unable to sleep.

“Hey, babe?” Lance whispered into the lingering stillness encasing Keith’s small bedroom in a timeless bubble where they could pretend the outside world didn’t exist.

Keith’s reply was guttural, “What?”

Lance allowed himself to be pulled further into Keith’s firm chest, sighing in contentment when he felt lips at the top of his neck. He let the peace simmer for a moment.

He took a deep breath. “Are you into BDSM?” he asked in one quick exhale, before it caught in his throat, the anticipation making his heart race, his face flush.

Tension cracked through Keith in the sudden jolt in his arms and shoulders. He began to withdraw, but Lance panicked and clung to his arms, feet reaching back and trapping Keith’s legs between his own. “Wait, no!” he cried. “Don’t run away!”

“When did you find it?” Keith croaked.

And Lance—

Lance paused. “What?”

Keith shuddered out a breath. “Did I forget to log off? Please don’t think it’s weird, I like what we’re doing now. I mean, I don’t _not_ like what we’re doing now, I just—don’t hate me, please. I don’t think I could stand it if you hated—”

Lance spun around and frowned at Keith’s obvious panic.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Lance demanded, pushing a hand to the side of Keith’s head. “I didn’t _find anything,_ Jesus. I was just asking about the possibility that we could try it out. Well, not that _I’d_ be _trying it out;_ I know exactly what _I_ want. I just wanted to know if you’d want to explore that avenue with me.” He grinned then and laughed gleefully. “But now that I know _you’re_ into it as well, I think we’ve also established that—wait are you submissive? Not that I’d be against trying my hand at some domination shtick, but I’m not exactly. . .how do I put this? _Dominant.”_

Keith stared at him for a moment before his mouth dropped open. “Wait, what?”

Lance continued aimlessly. “Well, not in bed at least. I’ve tried once with a previous partner, but that was a disaster and neither of us achieved orgasm that night; not that BDSM is all about orgasms, you know? Sometimes it’s about the headspace and being able to hand over complete control to someone and then you’re so relaxed and you don’t think you can move anymore and then you’re so good for the next day that you can pay attention in class properly and it’s _awesome.”_

“Uh?” Keith looked lost. “I guess I understand?”

“I mean, we’ve been together nearly 10 months and it’s going great, and the sex is good as well, but,” Lance floundered for an explanation that wouldn’t offend, but would also get the message across. “It’s like. . .how can I explain. . .?”

Keith interjected, “It’s like the fancy store-bought ramen packets from Costco that taste good and we could eat them everyday and be content, but then we have proper Japanese Ramen that Shiro made that one time to cheer me up, the one that took like three days to make. Except then we’d be living like Kings and it’s so much better despite the extra work that goes into it.”

Lance blinked, opened his mouth. Closed it again.

Then he scowled faintly. “I _guess_ that works,” he grumbled. “But I don’t like the insinuation that we’re like store-bought _ramen._ I mean, c’mon, I’m at least store-bought ramen from _Japan._ I’ve heard everything food-wise is better there. Vending machines are all ‘round superior to our _shitty_ vending machines on campus.”

“They are pretty shitty.”

“I _know,”_ Lance whined. “And you know what the _worst_ thing about it is? The worst thing is how bloody _expensive_ they are. Like, four dollars fifty for a fucking packet of dried noodles and flavouring that tastes like fucking dirt? What the _fuck?_ I had it once, and I think I can still taste it in my mouth. Disgusting.”

“Proper ramen is more expensive.”

“Yeah, but it tastes _so_ much better. And you get eggs and spring onion and pork and ramen noodles and so much other goodness that I’d happily do it _myself_ with my shitty cooking and tendency to get horridly distracted.”

“But you won’t have to do it yourself,” Keith mused. “I could do it. You just have to eat it. I could even feed it to you, if you like.”

“I _do_ like,” Lance said.

“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. I could take over control and you just sit back and take everything I can give you.”

“Yeah, but I can do—” Lance stopped. “Oh, we’re not really talking about Ramen anymore, are we?”

Keith smirked dangerously. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Shit,” Lance muttered, cheeks heating. “I’d like that.”

“Hmmm?” Keith murmured, shifting closer, raising his hand to brush his fingers over Lance’s warm face. “And what do you like in particular?”

Lance shivered and licked his lips. “Well,” he started. “I think bondage might be my favourite, but I love the other letters, too.”

Keith’s eyes darkened. “You want to be tied up, huh?”

“Yeah,” Lance breathed, distracted by the finger tracing invisible patters along this jawline and down his neck. “ _God.”_

“How bad?” Keith flattened his palm against the back of Lance’s neck and squeezed.

Lance’s breath caught. “ _So_ bad,” he said, pushing against the firm grip.

“Do you like being held down so you can’t move and all you can do is squirm and struggle, but you know there’s no way you’re going to get out of it until _I_ decide you’ve had enough? What do you like about it? Do you have a favourite way to be tied up, Lance?” he whispered. His lips curled as he pulled Lance closer and brush their noses together, lips hovering barely millimetres away. The distance so small, and yet so tantalisingly frustrating.

Lance tilted his head, mouth searching but finding nothing.

Keith’s hand slid to his hair and gripped it.

Lance’s mouth dropped open in response and he strained against the hand in his hair, back arching forwards. “ _Keith,_ shit.”

That hand in his hair tugged. “I asked you a question.”

“ _Fuck,_ okay,” Lance gasped. “I don’t—I don’t know why it’s so good, but I love it so much, it’s like I want it all the time, but I can’t because doing it alone is so terrifying and then people get weird about it and then they look at me strange when I bring it up and—”

Keith frowned, tugging harder. “I don’t want to know about that right now; you’re here with me, not those other people who don’t understand. You’re _mine_ now, okay? You’re not theirs, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Lance wet his lips. “Yeah, okay. I like—I know I definitely like rope play and being forced to stay still, but I love the idea of leather cuffs and spreader bars and suspension and predicament bondage and manhandling and _shit._ ” He forced air into his lungs. “I just want you to tell me what to do and constrict my movement so that anything I do is because you want me to. That is, uh, only if you want to.”

“What kind of rope play?” Keith asked, not even bothering to address the last point.

Lance answered, “Uh, I guess shibari type stuff; you know, intricate knots and shit. I tried it with several ribbons once, but only on one leg because I didn’t have enough for both. I managed to get my ankle against my thigh, but the ribbon was too thin and slippery that it didn’t really do anything, but the possibility was there, I guess. I came _so_ hard.”

Keith’s eyes almost gleamed. “So you really liked it, then?”

“Hell, yeah,” Lance said. He paused and squirmed against the hand still pulling his hair, making the skin of his skull string with each squeeze and release. “What do you—what do you like?”

Keith smirked. “Well, I just want to watch you lose your shit, to be honest. I like the idea controlling your orgasms; bring you to the edge over and over again until you’re begging for it, until you’re crying for it, until you’ll do anything for release. I want to watch you squirm, I want to bring out every little noise you can make, I want everything. So anything that will let me do that will be enough.”

Lance clenched his jaw. “Wow, okay. We can do that. But like, what specifically do you like?”

“Hmmm. . .” Keith thought for a moment. “I’m going to go through the categories I know of, and you’re going to tell me whether you like it or not. Depending on your answer, we can either discard them immediately or we can try it sometimes. That good?”

“Hit me,” Lance said.

Keith snorted. He release Lance’s hair and lifted himself up a little to grabbed his phone from the bedside table. Opening up notes, he tapped at the screen for a moment, before he looked back at Lance. “Alright. First question: do you like impact play?”

“Yep,” Lance said. “I’m—yep. You might have noticed how I almost actively aggravate any kind of injury I have if it’s not serious. Like bruises? I press them constantly.”

Keith blinked, frowning. “I did notice that, actually. That might have been one of the first things I noticed about you.”

“Really?” Lance said, almost disbelieving.

“Yeah. You remember when the whole group hung out for a study session at the library? That’s when I first noticed. There was a small bruise on your arm and you kept complaining every time you touched it. I thought you were just trying to get it to leave faster, but I guess that wasn’t the case.”

“Heh, no.”

“So, you’re good with impact play,” Keith confirmed, squinting at the screen and typing. “In that category, do you like temperature play? Ice and wax?”

Lance nodded. He could almost feel his skin tingling already. “Yep,” he squeaked. “That’s good, too. Tried on myself.”

“Which ones?”

“Both.”

Keith lifted his head and stared a him a moment before sucking in a breath and continuing.

“What about exhibitionism and voyeurism?”

Lance wrinkled his nose. “Er, I’m kind of iffy with that. If someone did see us and they didn’t want to, that’s messing with _their_ ability to consent. But if everyone is agreeable, like in a BDSM club of something, I’d like to try it out. I also like the idea of you watching from afar as you tell me what to do. Or even being forced to watch you, or something.”

Keith nodded seriously. “I’m glad we both understand that aspect. I can’t think of anything worse than making someone uncomfortable or hurt by it.”

“Good.”

“Food?”

“Too messy.”

“Sensory deprivation?”

“Heck yeah.”

“Humiliation?”

“In moderation.”

Keith paused. “Expand on that, please.”

Lance squinted. “Well, I’m kind of into pee desperation for the squirming and the relief at the end; it’s like an orgasm in some ways, but the idea of pee going anywhere but down the drain freaks me out. _However,_ when I think about, like, standing in the bathtub or shower and you’re just watching me and telling me I can’t go yet and you’re almost indifferent to my desperation, I’d like to try that. Also making me completely naked while you’re fully dressed is cool. Also making me wait is good. And calling me some names, like slut and greedy and whore is really hot but nothing to do with appearance or personality; that would actually hurt me.”

Keith smiled faintly. “I love those ideas.”

“Yeah, I want to be embarrassed, but not absolutely humiliated. If you catch my drift.”

“I understand,” Keith said. He hesitated a moment, as if over-thinking the next question. “I’m not totally into the idea, but what about other bodily fluid—”

“Nope,” Lance interjected immediately. “I mean other than semen and some saliva, nope. Where would your line have been there?”

Keith sighed in mild relief. “If you really wanted to try it, I could go for bloodplay, but I think I’d be too freaked out about cutting too deep to be honest.”

“Yeah, and I don’t really want scars if I can help it.”

“Fantastic. What about like knife play, where I don’t cut you I just run it along your skin?”

Lance licked his lips. “Er, we could try that.”

“What do you want to call me?”

“What do you _want_ me to call you?”

“We can try, ‘sir’ for now, but I draw the line as ‘master,’ you’re not a slave.”

Lance flushed red. “I think I’d like that. . .sir.”

“Good. Puppy play?”

“Maybe one day, but I’m not particularly interested.”

“Praise kink?”

“Hell yeah. Tell me I’m beautiful.”

“Well, I’m not going to have trouble finding things to praise you with. I do that in my head, anyway.”

“And you don’t say it?” Lance gasped. “Keith, you could have made me into putty before! We’ve wasted so much time!”

“I didn’t want to inflate your ego too much,” Keith muttered. “Not at first, anyway.”

“Not at first?”

Keith hesitated. “How should I put this? I thought at first you were being smug about the complements people would give you and I didn’t like it because I knew someone like that and they were an absolute dick. Then after watching closer—this was before you asked me out properly by the way—I realised it was embarrassment even if you did want to be praise about things.”

Lance giggled. “I don’t think it was a sexual thing then, but I kind of worked it out after a while. After you just outright told me my legs were gorgeous, anyway.”

“Wait,” Keith said. “ _I_ made you realise you had a praise kink?”

“You’re hot, okay!”

“What does that have anything to do with it?”

“I—you know what I think it might have been the fact that you never seemed to notice anything else, or at least you never commented on something you liked, you just looked at it and walked away.”

“Huh. This explains a lot, when you think about it.”

“Yeah.”

They didn’t speak for a moment and just blinked at each other, before Keith broken the silence with a quiet snort and turned back to his phone. Lance ducked his head, snickering.

“I think that’s. . .” Keith wracked his brain before clicking his tongue. “I think some people like cock cages and shit, but unless you like it, I don’t think I want to try that.”

“I don’t like that either, don’t worry.”

“Oh, good. Toys?”

“Anything, to be honest,” Lance said. “Well, not _anything_ I don’t think I want an arm sized dildo.”

Keith smirked. “Aw, why not?”

Lance shot him a dead-panned look. “This isn’t _Saw.”_

Keith shuddered. “I did not need that visual,” he said, lips pursed. “Anything else you like?”

“I like being pretty. I have some panties that I like to wear sometimes. I want to try service submission, but I will absolutely not cook; I don’t want to kill you. Overstimulation seems awesome. Uh, breath play seems interesting. Like with deepthroat and hand around the throat, but I don’t want to pass out, you know. Uh. . .anything you absolutely won’t try?”

Keith considered the question for a second. “I won’t try outside sex. I won’t break skin. No exhibitionism or voyeurism without the participants’ prior consent. No blood or piss or poop. No cock-cage. You know I think that’s it.”

He turned back to the screen and scrolled through the fairly long list on his phone before nodding. “Yeah that about it,” he said and slid the phone back onto the table. “Wanna cuddle again?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Keith snorted.

They shuffled around until Lance was back tucked against Keith’s chest with his neck supported by his arm. Lance snuggled deeper, trying to align every part of himself against Keith. He felt something press against his tailbone.

“You’re really hard,” he murmured, rolling his hips back to press his ass against Keith’s covered cock. “Just from talking about it? Keith, you pervert.”

Keith’s hand trailed from Lance’s collarbone to his nipples, giving them a quick pinch before sliding down to slip under his boxers. “So are you,” he said into the back of his head. “What does that make you?”

“Hng,” Lance moaned, shifting as Keith brushed his knuckles on the underside of his shaft. “Ah!”

“You want to try something small now?” Keith asked, pressing Lance’s cock against the soft flesh of his belly.

“Like what?” Lance replied, fidgeting as Keith stroked his thumb against the slit.

“Hmm. . .Like I hold you tight and you don’t get to come,” Keith whispered.

“Yeah, okay,” Lance wheezed, rutting forwards in a bid for more friction.

Keith released Lance’s cock. “Grab the lube and take your pants off,” he directed.

Lance whined a little but reached out with a trembling hand to sift through the top drawer of the bedside table before pulling out the quarter empty pump bottle of lube.

“Put it on the edge.”

When Lance settled back free of clothing, clear bottle as close to the corner as possible, Keith wrapped his legs around Lance’s thighs. “Put your hands behind your back and grab each opposite elbow,” Keith said, edging back slightly to give him space.

Lance did so without hesitation and stuttered out a breath as Keith curled his arm across Lance’s chest and dangerously close to his throat, holding him there with no more than his grip. He could still feel Keith hard and hot against his ass, but with Keith forcing his body still he couldn’t move against it. He could only lie there and take it.

He took a shuddering breath.

“Say pineapples if you’ve had enough,” Keith told him sternly, pumping some lube into his hand. “If I find out later that you wanted to use it and you didn’t, we’ll have to have a serious conversation. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” Lance gasped, nails pinching into the skin of his elbows. “I say pineapples if I don’t want it. I under—ah—understand.”

Keith grinned against his hair. “Good boy,” he crooned and finally wrapping his fingers around Lance’s straining cock.

Lance groaned, cock twitching. “ _Keith.”_

Keith twisted his fist and pulled up sharply. “That’s it, make as much noise as you want.”

“ _Yeah,_ okay,” he replied breathily, toes curling.

With the lube coated liberally, Keith began by circling pointer and thumb, stroking gently from tip to base and back again, tight enough that with every pass, he felt Lance twist at the sensation, thigh muscles twitching.

Lance moaned aloud. “Ah! _Fuck—”_

“You like that?” Keith cooed. “I can feel you twitching in my hand.”

“Well you _are_ touching— _Ah!_ —touching me,” Lance huffed.

Keith gripped him harder and worked his fist up and down. “I want you to tell me when you’re close, okay?”

Lance whined in response while Keith twisted his wrist, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. His fingers slid easily in the lube, curling and clenching. Lance was loud, panting in each breath like he was starving for it and moaning it out like he was drowning in it. Keith bent his other elbow a little more to brush against Lance’s hard nipples.

Lance meowled. “ _Keith! Fuck, sir._ ”

“I’ve always loved how sensitive your nipples are,” Keith whispered into the shell of his ear, lips brushing against his skin, breath damp. “And your neck. And your thighs. I shouldn’t even need to touch your cock to make you cum. I could just touch you and tease you and suck your neck and caress your inner thighs and you’d come undone, wouldn’t you? You’d be so beautiful like that. Huh? Lance?”

Lance’s mouth opened on an especially loud groan, back arching, ass pushing back.

Keith pinched his nipple hard. “Answer me.”

“Ah! Ye—uh, uh, uh—yes, _fuck!”_ Lance cried out. “Yes, I could—could—could cum! Did it—did it once with my— _shit, Keith—_ with my nipples! _Please—”_

“You did?” Keith hummed. “How long did it take?”

“I don’t—I don’t _know!”_ Lance began struggling against his hold, but Keith just held on tighter. “Can I—Can I cum?”

“No. Answer my question.”

“Ugh,” Lance grunted. “I think—I think maybe— _Fuck, fuck, shit—_ I—thirty—thirty minutes!”

“Thirty minutes?” Keith flicked his fingers into Lance’s slit. “And you didn’t touch anything else?”

Lance cried out again, legs trying and failing to extend, chest heaving. “ _Ah! No!_ I didn’t touch any—anything else! _Please_ can I cum, sir?”

“No,” Keith said, trying not to push his own arousal onto Lance. “Thirty minutes is a long time, sweetheart.”

“Can I _please_ cum?” Lance pleaded, stomach muscles convulsing with the effort to hold it back. “ _Please,_ I want to come. I’m so close!”

“No.” Keith slowed down to a crawl until only the pads of his fingers danced along the underside.

Lance sobbed, hips jolting. “ _No!_ Please, I wanna cum! Don’t _stop!”_

“But I said I didn’t want you to come,” Keith said firmly. “Don’t be rude.”

“I’m sorry!” Lance squeezed his eyes shut, shuddering as his orgasm retreated. “I’m sorry, _fuck._ It felt so _good_.”

Keith chuckled. “I could tell.”

“Don’t be mean,” Lance whined.

“I can be however mean I want, Lance,” Keith said, and began the torturous pace again, arm flexing. “That’s not up to you.”

“ _God,_ ” Lance panted. “We could have been doing this— _Ah!—_ the whole ti—hmm—the whole time.”

Keith palmed the head, fingers brushing against the base of his cock. “Well, that’s not _my_ fault, is it?”

“ _Ngh,_ no, sir,” Lance whimpered. “God, _please!”_

Keith slowed down again, until he held Lance in a loose grip. With his other hand, he flicked his thumb at a hardened nub. “God’s not going to help you here.”

“ _Ah!”_ Lance hissed, chest shuddering. “Oh, fuck. Sir, sir, please!”

“You’re so pretty, sweetheart,” Keith murmured, nosing along Lance’s neck. “You’re so desperate, but you know you’re not allowed to cum unless I want you to. You’re not going to cum, are you?”

“N—Ngh—no, I won’t,” Lance panted. “I won’t, I won’t— _AH!”_

Keith’s fist tightened and moved in time with each twist of Lance’s nipple. Lance’s spine curved outward, head bowing back, legs quaking as Keith didn’t stop moving against the head of his dick, almost vibrating up and down barely a centimetre of space. Lance almost jack-hammered from Keith’s grip, but he just held on tighter and pulled Lance harder against his chest, his own lungs seizing as he tried to pull in air.

“ _Ah,_ sir, please, fuck!” Lance sobbed out, nails creating crescent moods on the skin of his arms, the pain doing nothing to distract him from the unrelenting pleasure. “ _Please_ can I _come?_ I wanna come, please! Please, Keith I can’t hold—"

Keith abruptly let go and curled his slick hand around Lance’s stomach to stop him bucking into the heavy duvet that would be just enough to set him off. “No,” Keith growled.

Lance convulsed, feet kicking and squirming as he was dragged back from the edge by the skin of his teeth. “ _Why?!”_ Lance strangled out.

“You did ask for it,” Keith reminded him. As Lance went limp, Keith relaxed his hold and palmed his arousal, smirking when Lance whimpered, hips undulating.

“I _know!_ ” he whined. “I didn’t know you’d be _this—hmmmm, Jesus—_ this— _Keith!”_

His thumb had begun a slow torturous pace against the sensitive skin just under the head, fingers curled tight around the rest. “What, baby?”

Lance swallowed heavily. “ _Ah, shit_ , I didn’t think you’d be _this cruel.”_

“You think this is _cruel?_ ” Keith laughed. “This isn’t _cruel,_ Lance. I’m giving you what you need; you’re just being greedy.”

Lance groaned, fists clenching.

“You said you wanted me to take what _I_ wanted, I’m just doing what you asked. I’m taking _exactly_ what I want from you.”

Keith twisted his wrist _just so._

“ _Aaah, sir!”_ he wailed, trembling. “ _Please, please,_ I want to _come,_ let me _co—_ _fuck, sir, fuckfuckfuck—_ let me—”

He dropped Lance’s cock. “No,” he said, grinning manically as Lance cried out in frustration, body jerking. “Don’t whinge, Lance. It’s unbecoming.”

It really was a testament to how far gone Lance was that he didn’t immediately make that into a pun of some sort.

Keith began a slow stroke again, and even barely touching him, Lance still tensed up immediately, torso straining for something beyond what he could reach, eyes rolling into the back of his head for a moment before screwing shut again.

“ _Please_ ,” Lance croaked. “Please can I come?”

A gentle tease. “No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Now?”

“No.”

He tightened his fist and jerked fast.

Lance’s toes curled. “ _Sir, please!”_

Keith hummed. “Hmm. . .let me thing about that—” He slowed until he was just using his fingertips. “No.”

Lance sagged. “ _God damnit!”_

Keith pumped out more lube and started again, smirking as Lance gurgled low in his throat.

“You look so pretty, though,” Keith whispered. “You’re so fucking hard in my hand, so wet for me, so wanting. You’ve been wanting to do this for a while, haven’t you?”

Lance just wheezed.

Keith pinched the taught skin over his collarbone. “Answer.”

Lance yelped. “ _Yes,_ I’ve been thinking—thinking about I— _Fuck—_ it.”

“Yeah? How long?”

“ _Ah!_ Mon—months.”

“Months, baby? You must have been desperate for it. How long after we started having sex did you want more from me?”

Lance gurgled, his next words swallowed by a loud gasp as Keith squeezed his head. He rolled Lance’s abused nipples between pinched fingers.

“Hmm?” Keith murmured. “Lance, I’m waiting. How long, sweetheart?”

“ _Ooooh fuck,_ sir!” Lance meowled. “I’m—I don’t—I think. . . _after_ — _Ah shit!”_

Keith slowed his movements. “After? After when?”

Lance pulled in a huge breath. “Just _after—hmm, please. . .”_

“After our six-month anniversary? After we fucked for the first time? After we stopped using condoms? After when, Lance?” Keith twisted his wrist and pulled up unhurriedly, squeezing periodically. “Tell me.”

“Ah—after Pidge showed me— _Shit—_ the video of you punching Lote—Lotor!” Lance shouted in a rush.

Keith faltered, hand almost spasming and Lance made a noise in the back of his throat.

He’d known, of course, that Pidge had shown him videos of his fights when they’d been in high school. Lance hadn’t known him at that time; while Keith was friends with Pidge at school, Lance was Pidge’s neighbour and had been for most of their lives. And despite Pidge talking incessantly about her neighbour Lance, the other boy was always gone in the times Keith had visited her home.

It wasn’t until they’d all gone to the same university, the same campus, that they’d finally been formally introduced to each other. Lance had seemed so standoffish then, so snappish, but now. . .

Keith had trouble breathing. “Oh? Do continue.”

“ _Ah fuck!_ She showed me,” Lance ground out. “She showed me so many fucking video—videos of you being a badass in high school that I had to fuck—fucking _excuse_ myself. It was—was _pathetic._ I was like a fucking pre-teen who just realised he has— _Aah, god damnit,_ sir, _please—_ has a dick. _Ah, fuck!_ ”

Keith sped up. “When was this?”

“I—I think it was—shit!—I think I was six—six— _sixteen!”_ Lance arched. “ _Please_ can I come?”

Keith stopped. “No. Sixteen, Lance? I think you need to start taking math again. That’s not months; that’s four years. You didn’t even know me then, Lance. You wanted me, and you didn’t even know me. Did you lust after any overly aggressive boy?”

“No!” Lance shook his head. “No, just—just you! I don’t know _why_ I just—you looked like you could hold me down and just—”

Keith pulled on his nipple and began stroking him again, lips caressing the patch of skin below his ear. “. . .Just?”

“Just _fuck me_ ,” he cried. “Just hold me down and _use_ me, like I was some— _aaaah, shit—_ some _toy_ just for you.”

“Just for me?” Keith whispered, the muscles in his forearm aching with each pass over the head of Lance’s throbbing member. “You’d give yourself to be like a little whore?”

“ _Ah, ah, ah, sir, please._ Please, please, _please,_ can I come now? Your hand— _fuck, please—_ your hand feels so—so _gooooo. . .oooooh ah!”_

Lance’s hips undulated, head thrown back. Fat tears began trickling down his temple and over the bridge of his nose, chest heaving with each breathy sob.

Keith dropped Lance’s cock.

“ _No!”_ Lance shouted, shoving his ass back. His thighs shivered. “No, _please! Please,_ I wanted to come!”

Keith just hummed in response and dragged his knuckles over the underside. As he listened to Lance’s moaning, he lifted his head slightly to gaze at the clock. His eyes narrowed.

“It’s nearly two o’clock, babe. I think it’s time to stop; you’ve got to hand in your project at ten.”

Lance whined miserably. “But sir—”

“Shh. . .” Keith said, grabbing a tissue from the bedside table to wipe his hands and Lance’s cock clean and free of slippery lube. “You don’t want to miss your deadline, do you?”

“I haven’t come yet!”

“Well, that’s not _my_ problem, is it?” Keith said. “I didn’t say you were coming tonight. It’s your own fault for thinking you were.”

He rearranged them until Lance was pillowed with his cheek against Keith’s chest, arm draped over his stomach. Keith’s fingers ran gently through Lance’s short hair to aid in calming him. Lance still squirmed, cock bumping into Keith’s leg, but he didn’t try to gain more friction.

They were asleep fifteen minutes later.

**Author's Note:**

> I have some other stuff for this thing, and if I can be bothered to actually finish it, I may add to this. For God's sake don't wait for it, though.


End file.
